Their Love
by lostwithmyfriends
Summary: Oneshots of Achilles and Patroclus {Patrochilles}
1. Chapter 1

Achilles was just returning from his visit with his mother. Patroclus was sitting alone in front of the ocean, the waves barely reaching his feet. His eyes seemed focused in thought. Achilles stood above him. Patroclus smiled as he stood and wrapped his arms around Achilles.

"I missed you." Achilles said, with an emotion he reserved only for Patroclus.

"I missed you too." Patroclus wasted no time and he placed a quick kiss on Achilles' lips before anyone could come and see.

"What were you thinking about?" Achilles wondered aloud.

"You. That one time when you stole a piece of bread for me and your dad got really angry."

Achilles laughed, "You remember that? Patroclus, that was 6 years ago?"

Achilles was still softly chuckling, but Patroclus was showing a softer, more binding emotion.

"Sure, I mean, I remember everything about you..." Patroclus almost sounded nervous, embarrassed in speaking.

Achilles smiled, " really? Like what?"

"Well..." Patroclus was now smiling too, aware of the game Achilles was playing, " the way your hair shines, no matter what time of day. How you always look after me before yourself." Patroclus was still smiling, but he was turning serious.

"How your pride comes before all. The way you laugh at jokes that weren't even merely funny. How you have a soft spot for figs." He was completely serious now, everything he said was making Achilles' heart warm, until he was bathing in flames.

Patroclus' voice grew even softer, "When you're with me, you let go of expectation. The glow in your eyes right now. I will always remember.

And most of all, the feeling I get that I'd rather die than live without you."

They kissed once more, but with a passion Achilles' did not know he withheld.

That night, they would sleep together, holding each other tightly. Achilles didn't tell Patroclus what his mother had said to him.

That he was to die in battle the next day.


	2. One Last Goodbye

"Patroclus, are you there?" The golden boy swept into the tent and his gaze landed on his sleeping lover. His head buried in his pillow. Achilles smiled, but it quickly subsided as, once again, the prince remembered. He was in there for a reason.

"Patroclus, you need to wake up..." He softy whispered, rubbing the resting one's arms. He couldn't help but admire the messy hair and run his hand through it.

Patroclus grumbled, his eyes flitting open and landing on Achilles. A smile instantly landing on his face.

"Hey," Patroclus mumbled, sitting up and catching Achilles' hand in his, "what're you doing here so early?"

He didn't answer. His voice suddenly lost to the killer that is silence. All was still, but the crashing of Poseidon's waves and the rushing of Artemis' wind. He looked down at their hands and exhaled.

"Achilles, what is it?" Patroclus pulled his hand back and crossed over to the other side of their home. Achilles stayed put.

"I... It's Odysseus."

"What happened to him?"

"Nothing, but Patroclus, he's sending you home. Back to Ithaca." Achilles then stood off the bed and went over to the slouching exile. He wrapped his arms around him and buried his head in his neck.

"I've known, since yesterday. It was my idea." Achilles lifted his head as Patroclus shut his eyes.

"Well, why? Why do you need to go home?" Achilles, with worry, spoke frantically. Grasping at the chance for his Patroclus to stay with him here at Troy.

"There are too many sick men, too many injured men. They can't fight." Patroclus' words held an inspiration, much like the passion Achilles has on the battlefield.

"So? Patroclus they are men. They signed up for this when they came to fight." He said with no understanding of Patroclus' intentions.

"They signed up for this, but their families didn't. Achilles, I love you, but I have to do this. Their families deserve one last moment."

Achilles took a deep breath and clenched his fists. For Patroclus, he would understand.

"Okay, go." And he left to go visit Thetis, leaving Patroclus to think.

Three days later, and Patroclus was ready to sail back to Ithaca. Three days and he hadn't seen a glimpse of Achilles. Three days of uneven thoughts and three days of lonely bedsheets. He didn't know where his prince had gone, but he wanted more than anything for him to show up now.

"He isn't coming, you know." Patroclus swung his head around to face the sharp, godly voice.

"I was afraid of that." He didn't know why he was indulging in Thetis' games. Her hair, complimented by the shining of the sun, flowed in her face. Apollo was doing his work. She wasn't smirking, and her posture, unsteady.

"Go to him, before you leave."

"What?" No response, for she was gone after the blink of his eye.

He stood there, trying to recall where his love would be.

He checked everywhere, stalling the departure of the ships. His own tent was vacated of all his belongings, stripping it down to this emptiness. It broke his heart.

He checked fields, and the woods, he took a step into every tent he could find, desperate to find Achilles. He found him, finally, standing alone on the shoreline.

"I've come to say goodbye, Achilles." He announced, facing the back of Achilles' head.

"You're my love, Patroclus. The only one I fight for."

"Achilles, I-"

"No, Patroclus, you need to hear this from me before you go. I love you; I need you! I need you to make me stronger, to make me smarter, and more understanding and not someone who simply kills people in a war. When this is all over, I'll need you back with me, to make me whole again."

There were the beginnings of tears in Patroclus' eyes. And those tears soaked into Achilles' shoulders when they embraced. Tighter than they ever have before.

Nothing more was said. There was one last, beautiful kiss. It lingered on both their lips as they stood in each other's arms, unwanting of the future's forthcomings.

When the ships could wait no longer, Patroclus stepped aboard and sailed back to Ithaca. And for the first days back, he watched as these injured men greeted their families and passed on. He watched as every last soldier left from the Trojan War fell. For the first months he stayed in his old room at the palace. He placed some papyrus in front of him and set a quill to its surface. Spilling the narrative of his love. For the first years, he took his medical skills to Ithaca. Saving those who were otherwise left for dead. And for the first decade, his mind never left the golden-haired Prince Achilles.


End file.
